Hello all! Welcome to my first AU fic ever :) It takes place in the early 1800's in England. I've tried to keep this accurate and I hope that you let the little things slide, it's just a story of course.

Smutty and a bit dark, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a little comment when you've read it. There are more chapters and it would be good to know if you'd like to read those too.

A lot of horses

"Sometimes we don't see things, even when they are right in front of us." I hated that cliche line, so often quoted by people who pretended to read. I hated it even more when I realized how true it was.

I hadn't noticed him the first time we met, as I never did with any people from the housing staff. I had simply handed my horse's reins to some stable guy, only to find out later that that person had been him. I had not given him a second glance at the moment.

Soon I realized how strange that had been: Because the second time I saw him I couldn't possibly stop looking at him.

My upbringing and my status didn't allow me to pay a lot of attention to people of my staff, so I never did. The only person I did talk to was Craig, who took care of my estate while I was gone. And I was gone a lot. I didn't particularly like my job but I threw myself head-first into work nonetheless. It was a great way of not having to speak to my parents, so I had a lot of business meetings and books to read regarding my work. But when I didn't work or read I could feel quite lonely. Especially the winter months were dreadful: cold, windy and dark.

It was always with great relief that I saw the trees turn green and the heavy, weary months of winter pass into the unsure start of spring. I always took the whole summer off, instead opting to either go travelling or stay at home and read and get invited to a few balls. Rich people were always very welcome guests at balls and banquets and I was no exception.

I didn't need to travel though, to enjoy summer. My grounds were big enough for me to appreciate the summer months as well. I could go hunting, invite friends over for some card games or do what I liked the most: just riding over my lands on one of my horses.

A great way of living yes, but also one with a lot of responsibilities. My parents made it known, on every possible occasion, that I should take a wife and have children. But I loved my free life too much to make such a major change in my life just yet.

I preferred hanging out with my upper-class friends and read books in my spare time. Even when all the friends I had were very much upper-class and practically royal themselves. I barely had any contact with the common man, and I preferred it that way.

Who was I to know that that contact would be forced upon me very soon and in a way that I couldn't deny.

XXX

It was the first day of spring when I had gone for a ride over my lands. I loved trotting slowly through the woods or galloping over the fields. As long as I was outside, under the sun, I felt happy and free. Free of all my responsibilities.
I returned to my mansion after a long morning of riding and had given my horse to some stable boy. I decided to walk around the back of my mansion and I could see Stan, one of my neighbors, leaning on the fence of one of my fields.
I had known Stan for a long time. We had not gotten along very well in the past, but adulthood had brought peace to our lives and into our relationship. He was one of the poorest people I knew, which still meant that he was pretty rich. Some people considered it imprudent that I was friends with someone in a bit of a lower class than my own. I loved this little bit of rebelliousness that I had.

Stan often came up to my lands to play some card games or to ride out together. We still quarreled often, but not with the usual venom we had had in our younger years.
Right now he was leaning against the fence and looking at the horses on the field with a frown on his face. I trotted up to him and dismounted.

"What's the matter?" I inquired Stan as I approached the fence.

"Ah, good afternoon, Gregory. Nothing much. The stable guy is trying to separate these horses and I'm watching. It's rather amusing to see." He indicated towards the field where a brown haired man was trying to pull away Henry from Oliver, two of my favorite horses.
I had never seen this man before, or so I thought. He wore a simple shirt that didn't hide his strong, muscled arms in the slightest and showed his tanned skin. His brown hair was a mess and his eyes a stunning green even visible from this distance. I had never seen such a man. All the man I knew were delicate, pale and sophisticated. He looked rugged, wild and nearly feral.

Stan and I continued our polite conversation, all the while watching as the man tried to persuade Henry to come with him.

The stable guy had finally moved Henry away and petted him on the neck as he murmured. The act surprisingly gentle for such a rugged man. He tried to lead the horse away but he was only about halfway towards the stables when it broke lose and galloped back to Oliver. He looked after him and then shrugged before coming our way.

When he was level with us I noticed how sweaty his brow and arms looked. I could smell it too. And instead of it making me nauseous I found myself enjoying the smell. Stan frowned as we our conversation was interrupted by someone from the staff.

"I've been trying to do eet for days but I can not do eet." His heavy French accent was like the strike of a hammer and I felt myself momentarily speechless. For some reason it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life.

"Excuse me?" Stan said with a frown.

"Ze horses, I can not separate zem and get zem to mate with ze mares."

"Why on earth not?" Stan demanded. The man's eyes shifted to mine and their green intensity seared right through me. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Why not?" I demanded, echoing Stan.

"Zey do not like ze mares."

"What?" Stan asked stunned.

"Zey do not want to be separated. Zey only want to be wiz each other." Something about his tone was off.

"You mean, romantically?" I tried, surprised.

"Eet's only natural." He said, shrugging.

"No, it's not! It's disgusting!" Stan said with a frown.

"You see eet all over nature." His eyes locked with mine and it wasn't until much later that I realized he had seen through me back then already.

Craig, my housekeeper, came up to us, fixing the stable boy with a glare, obviously wanting him gone. The stable boy just looked back, his dark green eyes daring him to sent him away. Craig never backed down from a glare.

"Christophe, go get the horses from the ladies at the gate."

The stable boy, Christophe apparently, made a slight bow before walking away. The muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he walked away. I quickly averted my eyes from him.

"That's why I came here." Craig said. "Miss Testaburger is here with some friends."

"Wendy?" Stan said, enthusiastically. I was less happy, however. Wendy was a wonderful girl, her friends however could be quite dreadful.

"Let's go to them then." I sighed. The three of us walked back towards my mansion. I looked back one more time to see Henry and Oliver once again side by side. I shook my head and followed the others inside.

XXX

Wendy was charming as ever. I loved talking to her, she was one of the few women I found tolerable. She was intelligent and sweet but with a wit not unlike my own. I knew Stan liked her too, but for some reason she was always drawn to me. A lot of women were. It seemed as if I understood them and they understood me. I had never known why I had this connection with them. But I never questioned it, I just talked with them and laughed at their jokes.

I knew Stan was pining after Wendy. He had always been drawn to her that way. But he had a lot less money than she had and asking her to marry him would be considered highly inappropriate. Instead he always talked a lot to Wendy's loud friend Bebe. All the while giving Wendy looks of longing that only I seemed to see.
But he was a good looking man, his dark hair sleek and thick and he had one of the most charming smiles I had ever seen. Yet, proposing to Bebe might not be a good idea. Her whorish tendencies were wildly known all throughout Northern England and the match might not be looked favorably upon by his parents.

Their other friend, Rebecca, was rather shy and I found myself talking and laughing with Wendy most of all. I knew my parents wanted me to marry and have children. I also knew that they found that Wendy would be very suitable. But something inside of me was restraining me from proposing to her.

I didn't know what that was.

We said goodbye to them after an hour or two and I talked to Wendy as Christophe got their horses. I watched the three of them ride off, laughing together and looking really happy. When I turned I noticed that Christophe was still there. He fixed me with a look that I found quite rude, like I was some joke he was really enjoying, before he went inside the stables.

I stared after him for quite some time.

XXX

I often took my favorite horse, Teddy, for a tour over my lands. I loved galloping over the fields or through the apple orchard. The sweet smell of the apple blossoms took my mind of things and relaxed my greatly.

I was just riding back after a particularly long ride when I decided to go past the little pond near my house, just behind the stables. As I rode through the trees I noticed someone in the water. Someone was swimming? How odd.

I slowed down and dismounted, leading the horse through the trees to get a better look at this person that was swimming in my pond. I hid behind a few bushes and looked towards the pond. It was the stable guy, Christophe. But he wasn't swimming, he was bathing.

Of course, I had seen other men naked, though not very often and certainly not recently. And I had, most certainly, never seen a specimen quite as handsome as him. He was very muscled, and toned, nearly dark skinned from his work outside. His muscled back moved gracefully as he bent down to scoop up more water to rinse his shoulders and arms. And once clean, those arms showed flowing, smooth muscles. I swallowed when I noticed how the vision of that naked man bathing made my temperature rise.

Higher and higher.

I had never had such a reaction with anything or anyone. Not even running into Bebe while she was changing had had me this hot and bothered. For some reason, the vision of this naked man had me standing stock still as if hypnotized.
I swallowed again as his hands moved over his chest and swept through his chest hair. My own chest hair was pretty scarce and I found myself wondering what it would feel like to touch it like that: running my fingers through it and tracing the, no doubt, very warm skin underneath. My eyes widened as his hands moved over his own waist, cleaning his sides before dipping lower and into the water.

His mouth opened in a quite, content sigh and I felt all blood rush to my head as I realized what he must be doing at that very moment. And I was right. I could see his right arm moving slow and steady and he closed his eyes slowly, as if he was slipping into a content sleep.
He picked up his pace just slightly and I felt my blush spread towards my chest, a horrifying tell tale hardness in my own slacks. And as he let his free hand trail over his chest I felt an incredible urge in me urge to touch myself too. But I was terrified at that moment that I would make a sound and have him catch me doing it.

And just the thought: touching myself while watching another man do the same was just wrong in my eyes. These types of feelings were reserved for women, in marriage not for another man.
Not even when that man was ruggedly handsome, not fragile or feminine as the other aristocratic men I know. Like myself. His hands moved over his chest again and I wanted to know how those muscles would feel under my own hands.
Not even, I reminded myself as I barely bit back a moan, when that man made me hornier than any woman could have ever accomplished.

I knew I was breathing just slightly harder and that I was sweating profusely. But how could I not? It was all I could do not to touch myself or worse, run over to him and touch him. That forbidden thought was quickly banned from my mind.
He moaned louder now and I saw his shoulders tense up.

Oh sweet Lord, he was going to come.

Part of me wanted to run away and the other part wanted to stay and watch. I had never seen another man orgasm and I was terribly curious to find out what it would look like.
Of course, the perverted part of my brain won. I could not properly see what he was doing, since he was turned slightly away from me and hiding the lower part of his body in the water so that I could not see how he was touching himself.
But my mind, my perverted mind, gave me a lot of images as to how that would look. The swift movements of his wrist, his fingers gripping himself tightly. I took a breath to calm myself, so that I wouldn't come into my slacks right there and then.

And Christophe moaned quietly with me, echoing my sound of slight despair that was quietly escaping my lips. And then he steadily became louder until he came with a loud groan. His movements continuing in a slow rhythm and I knew he was riding out his orgasm completely, the thought even more erotic perhaps than him touching himself.

He sighed and withdrew his hand from under the water, moving to clean it in the stream. With a shock I realized he must be coming out of the water soon. And although I wanted to see more of him, the thought of getting caught was more mortifying than my guilty pleasure. With as little noise as possible I moved away from the line of the trees and onto the path. I grabbed the reins of Teddy and walked away quickly. My pace speeding up with every pace I took.

And when I remembered his dark brown hair and strong jaw I broke into a run, determined to run away from that man that drove me to sin.

TBC